


Anivengers: Steve and Bucky

by TheUnfortunateCat



Series: Anivengers [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnfortunateCat/pseuds/TheUnfortunateCat
Summary: A dog and a cat become best friends, and stay best friends, against all odds(Basically, this is the first installation of an Animal AU.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: Anivengers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875511
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

“Psst. Hey. Hey, Bucky. Bucky, are you awake?”

He groaned, his tail twitching in annoyance. “I am now.” He blinked open his bleary eyes to scowl at the furry blonde lump next to him. “What’d you want, punk.”

Steve tucked his oversized paws closer to his small body to preserve what little heat he could get. “We should go to that World Exposition, ‘r whatever it’s called, that Stark is doin’ next year.”

After a moment, Bucky’s scowl deepened, tail smacking the cushioned floor. “That’s what ya woke me up at this God-forsaken hour to say.”

Steve blinked his big blue eyes thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Bucky glared at him with slitted eyes for a second more, before turning back over, curling his tail over his nose. “Go t’ sleep, you punk.”

Steve laughed quietly, pushing his narrow body closer to his best friend’s dark-furred form. “G’night, Buck.”

Bucky sighed. “...’night, Stevie.”

(TBC)


	2. The Expo

Doctor Abraham Erskine was not an idiot.

Sure, he may not be exactly  _ wise _ to some people’s eyes, but he wasn’t incompetent. And he  _ definitely _ wasn’t oblivious.

He  _ was _ , however, very curious.

Such is why Doctor Abraham Erskine found himself eavesdropping on a tiny blonde dog and a brown-furred tomcat in the middle of the World Exposition.

Abraham had simply been passing through, vaguely interested in Howard Stark’s boasting of flying cars, when he heard an adamant voice over the din of the fair.

“This isn’t a back alley, Steve, it’s war!”

Abraham paused, the words catching his attention. 

“I know it’s a war, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs...”

He located the sources of the voices as they spoke up again, both of them with Brooklyn accents. Abraham slowed his stride, peering in the direction of a small golden retriever and a brown shorthair as they continued to argue.

“What am I gonna do, collect scrap metal—“ 

“Yes!”

“—in my little red wagon.” the canine finished bitterly, and Abraham struggled not to react when he realized that the blonde dog was quite a bit older than he looked.

“Why not?” the tomcat shot back, tail flicking irritably.

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky…”

“I don’t—”

“Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives.” the golden dog cut him off firmly, planting his paws. “I got no right to do any less than them.”

The feline scowled down at his friend, a fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “Right… ‘cause you’ve got nothin’ to prove.”

Abraham’s whiskered eyebrows were high on his head now, because  _ this  _ was _ exactly what he was looking for. _ Project Rebirth required steadfast will, but not too much ambition, lest he create another Schmidt. Abraham looked at the small golden retriever in a new light, his eyes narrowing fractionally.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” the brown cat told the dog, starting to walk away.

“How can I? You’re takin’ all the stupid with you,” the canine retorted, a teasing light to his eyes.

The shorthair gave a small smile, walking back. “You’re a punk,” he murmured fondly, almost too quietly for Abraham to hear.

“Jerk,” the dog sighed, nuzzling his friend's neck. “Be careful.”

Abraham watched as the cat started to walk away again, and the canine called after him, “Don’t win the war ‘til I get there!”

The brown feline spun around, giving a mock salute, before walking back to two dressed-up she-cats. “C’mon girls, they’re playin’ our song…”

Abraham ducked his head as the golden dog — Steve, wasn’t it? — turned around, looking at the poster next to him for a moment more before heading in the direction of the enlistment rooms.

After a moment, Abraham turned and followed.

  
(TBC)


	3. Azzano

Steve’s paws pounded on the hard ground as he sprinted through the poorly-lit halls, the clasp of the Captain’s shield clutched in his teeth. 

He slowed to a stop as he caught sight of a pudgy bulldog holding a briefcase in his jaws scuttling away, his flat face creased with anxiety, and his eyes widened behind round glasses as he noticed Steve.

The golden dog’s velvety ears flicked as he heard a quiet mutter from one of the rooms, and he glanced toward the door, making a mental note to come back after he confronted the — most-likely HYDRA — scientist.

_ Wait… I know that voice. _

Plan forgotten, he rushed through the doorway, the shield falling from his jaws as he stared at the sight that greeted him. 

Bucky, splayed out on his side, suspended needles surrounding his battered and too-thin body laid out on a metal table. “...Sergeant… 32557…” he mumbled, his paws twitching, half-lidded eyes glazed over.

“Bucky?” Steve gasped, lurching forward. “Oh my God…” He quickly tore the restraints on his best friend's hind legs, and gently but urgently tried to prod him awake with his snout. 

Bucky blinked his grey-blue eyes, dazed. “Is that…”

Steve nodded, relieved. “It’s me. It’s Steve.”

“Steve.” Bucky gave a tiny smile, his eyes clearing slowly.

“C’mon,” Steve ushered softly, nudging the tomcat with his snout.

“Steve…” Bucky said again, lifting his head and blinking quickly.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve’s voice caught in his throat, and he leaned back on his muscled haunches as his best friend got his bearings.

As Bucky sat up, he finally got a good look at Steve, and his eyes roved over the golden dog’s body, his brow furrowing. “...I thought you were smaller.”

Steve suppressed a laugh, helping Bucky stand up. “Come on.”

“What happened to you?” Bucky mewed as he struggled to his paws, only making the newfound height difference more apparent. Steve felt like he towered over his best friend now. He didn't like it.

“It joined the army!” Steve responded as cheerfully as he could manage, grabbing his shield and latching it to his back, leading Bucky out of the room.

The brown cat was still staring bewilderedly at his best friend’s much different physique, his eyes round with confusion. “Did it hurt?”

Steve remembered the agony of the procedure, then shrugged. “A little.”

Bucky glanced at Steve’s powerful legs, his ears flicking. “Is it permanent?”

Now  _ that  _ was a question Steve wished he’d asked Erskine. “So far!”

The pair picked up their pace as they ran through the exploding factory, for once  _ Steve _ being the one who had to slow down as Bucky galloped behind him, pointed ears pressed flat against his skull.

“What the hell did you  _ do _ while I was gone?” Bucky panted, having noticed Steve’s lack of asthma by now.

“Uh…” Steve sighed inwardly, bracing himself for the inevitable lecture later. “...I might’ve let myself get experimented on a little by a German scientist in a government division I didn’t even know existed,” he rushed the words, jogging a bit faster. 

“ _ What?! _ ” Bucky burst out, his tail lashing as his eyes dilated. “Why the  _ hell— _ “

“I’ll explain once we get out of here, okay?” Steve barked back.

Bucky growled in displeasure, but whatever he had been about to say was cut short when the both of them noticed Johann Schmidt and the pudgy scientist standing on the bridge leading to the elevator. Steve cursed silently, but grabbed his shield and stepped up to confront them while Bucky stayed at his left shoulder, though Steve couldn’t help but notice that he was staring at the scientist, not Schmidt. 

But his train of thought was interrupted when Schmidt started to taunt him.

“Captain America!” he goaded, his accented bark grinding on Steve’s nerves. “How exciting! I’m a great fan of your films. So Dr. Erskine managed it after all.” He regarded Steve’s shaggy body, and the muscles under his golden fur. “Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive.”

Steve grit his teeth, and rammed Schmidt with his skull, putting as much force as he could into the blow.

“You’ve got no idea,” he growled, his claws scraping the metal of the bridge as he tensed for a fight.

Schmidt sneered. “Haven’t I?”

He suddenly lurched forward, retaliating with a strike of his own, but Steve whipped up his shield just in time to see the metal dent where Schmidt hit it. Steve snarled wordlessly as he launched himself at the dark-furred dog, claws outstretched.

While the two super-soldiers fought, Bucky desperately watched the fight to see if there was any way he could help, but most of the movement was too fast for him to track. Frustrated and anxious, he would’ve missed the scientist’s muttered words if he’d been paying less attention.

“So you did survive…” the patchy bulldog said quietly, sounding almost… in awe.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, his tail thrashing. “What?”

The scientist's eyes were wide with wonder as he stared at Bucky, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. “Fascinating…”

Suddenly, Steve raked his claws down Schmidt’s face, sending the sleek canine sprawling. The scientist seized the chance to grab a lever in his teeth and pulled, making the bridge split apart. 

Schmidt glared haughtily at Steve as he stood up, dark blood leaking from the slashes on his face. “No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see  _ I _ was his greatest success!” Steve’s eyes widened as the leather-clad dog clawed at the fur on his neck, tearing — no,  _ peeling _ the skin back like an orange, leaving his deep red skull and muscle exposed.

Steve heard Bucky murmur nervously in his direction, “You don’t have one’a those, do ya?”

Schmidt threw the bloodied flesh-and-fur-mask to the fires below, his yellowish teeth a stark contrast to his blood-hued flesh and bone as he snarled. “You are deluded, Captain! You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind!” He took a step forward, getting as close to Steve as possible while the bridge was split. Bucky glared at the German, positioning himself to help Steve if need be, even though the logical part of his brain knew that he was about as useful in this situation as a crowbar to a music box.

Schmidt continued, as the scientist grabbed a silver case in his jaws. “Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

Steve squared his shoulders. “Then how come you’re running?” he barked, as he realized that Schmidt and the bulldog were moving to the far elevator.

Schmidt simply smirked as the metal doors closed, nearly making Steve growl in irritation. Instead, he turned and said to Bucky, “Come on, let’s go. Up.”

The pair maneuvered through the burning factory on the catwalks, every tremor and burst of fire making them both flinch. Steve noticed an only-slightly-unsteady gantry reaching across to the other side, loping over to it and beckoning Bucky with a flick of his tail.

“Let’s go, one at a time,” he said, catching Bucky’s look of uncertainty before his friend gingerly stepped up onto the makeshift bridge. Steve’s heart skipped a beat every time the gantry shifted, Bucky’s paws shaking as he slowly made his way over to the other side. 

The metal suddenly groaned, and Steve instinctively barked in warning as Bucky quickly leaped off of the collapsing beam, catching the edge of the catwalk and scrabbling madly until he pulled himself up, his eyes round with terror as he turned to look back at Steve, who was still on the other side of the burning factory.

“Gotta be a rope or something!” Bucky called, desperation coloring his mew.

“Just go!” Steve shouted back. “Get out of here!” 

“No! Not without you!” Bucky yowled, his fur bristling as he clutched the metal rail.

Steve could see that Bucky didn’t intend to leave if he himself wasn’t able to, and he growled quietly. He scanned the area for something,  _ anything _ , and his eyes fell on the bent rail.

_ Oh boy, _ he thought, realizing what he had to do.

Leaning forward, he grabbed the metal bar in his teeth and pushed it away, before taking a few pawsteps back. He could see the confusion plain on Bucky’s face, and he silently apologized in case it didn’t work.

Then he ran forward, and leaped.

The heat from the flames below licked at his paws, and he nearly managed to land securely, but ended up tumbling head-over-tail and nearly smashing into Bucky. The tomcat managed to dodge out of the way, and rushed to his side as soon as he came to a graceless stop.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” he growled, nipping Steve’s ear  _ hard _ and making him yelp.

“I know, I know,” he grunted, standing up. “Come on, let’s get outta here before this place collapses.”

(TBC)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Yes, dogs, and other animals, can have asthma. Look it up, it’s an actual thing that I didn’t know until I actually looked into it.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged :)


End file.
